Better Because Of You
by ClumsyAlice
Summary: Alice is a prostitute, Jasper is a hobo, they meet through an unlikely connection. Sexual tensions flare, and they struggle to adapt to a sober life. Will Alice be able to get off the street corners, will Jazz get off the streets? R&R! Up for adoption!
1. Chapter 1

***AN***

**Hi! Well this is probably my new favorite story written by me. I am having a blast writing it and indulging in the dark side. Lemons! This ain't your Gramma's lemonade. I would totally love if you review, or even read the next chapter. Feel free to suggest obscure quotes. I will have some guess-and-get-mentioned stuff in chapters to come. **

Alice POV

I laid in my bed, covered in crocheted afghans, not sleeping. The musty, damp smell of the room permeated my empty daydreams. My mind raced as I drummed my fingers on the cold wall. I felt anxious, jumpy, and nervous, I had been off my Ritalin for a few days.  
I sat up abruptly and grabbed my needle from my night stand, I tapped it, and flexed my arm and injected the vial into the vein that popped through the marred skin of the inside of my elbow. The feeling of the needle shooting through my skin hardly bothered me anymore, I set the empty needle back onto the table beside my bed, waiting for the rush.  
My slum of an apartment was cool, so I pulled a puffer vest on over my long-sleeved, heather gray thermal. It was about forty degrees outside, though when you were surrounded by concrete walls it felt cooler. I slipped my purple skinny jeans on over my white lace boy shorts, and reached for my black converse high tops. After struggling to lace them with shaky hands, I rushed through the door. The euphoria began as I left my apartment. I ran down the metal stairs out into the cool Philadelphia air.

"Yo, Alice." My friend Peter called to me, he was compassionate, but I tried not to be seen with him, I valued both of our lives too much.

"Hey, Pete!" I shouted back to him.

"What are you doing out here, girl? It's three in the morning."

"I know, Pete, I gotta work tomorrow night, 'til then I'm just gonna enjoy the rush."

"Oh, I see, you shoot up yet tonight?"

"Couple minutes ago."

"Enjoy it, girl. Just be careful."

"I am."

I ran past the stoop that Peter was sitting on, I assumed that he was staying on those steps for the night, poor guy.  
The night was beautiful and I felt like I was flying, cars sped past me in a blur. The soggy grass squished below my hightops. My empty stomach rolled at the sound. It occurred to me as I walked home that I hadn't eaten in more than 15 hours and my latest shot of heroin wasn't helping my appetite any, I would try to eat tomorrow before work, I had some cereal in the cupboards, maybe.  
The high wore off, and I felt awful, sick, and I knew that I had to have looked terrible. I started to walk back home, my steps heavier as I grew drowsy.

"Where are you going, Honey?" My nostrils flared at the sound of his low throaty voice, I felt even more like throwing up.

"I'm going home, James." I retorted, still walking.

"Well, where've you been?" He asked, his voice reminded me of a, one of those animals with the feet, I don't know, must just be the smack confusing me, I thought to myself.

"Just, out." I commented, trying to remain nonchalant.

He blew out an aggravated breath that caused bile to approach the back of my throat, "Where?" He sounded mad.

"I shot up, ran down the highway and now I'm going home, I'm tired and I'm going home to sleep so that I can work tomorrow night."

"Why are you so fucking angry? I pay for that shit, Alice, I pay for your fucking apartment. I keep you safe."

I swallowed my hatred and bile, I did appreciate him, "Thank you, James."

"No need to be so formal, baby."

"Okay, can I go home?"

"Go on, I'll see you later."

"Okay."

I walked home quicker than before even though as every second ticked by I felt ten times worse, I ran up the rusting stairs, nearly missing the top step, jittery, I thrust my key into the door with shaking hands, and stumbled to my bed, not bothering to remove my vest or shoes, I was focusing on thinking of something other than James, my boss, I wouldn't lie to myself, he wasn't a boss, he was a pimp. I looked at the ceiling and let it all fade to black.

Jasper POV

I exhaled heavily through my mouth, watching my misty breath swirl in front of my face. I was cold, but happy that the concrete of the graffiti covered bridge's underbelly was blocking most of the wind. I pulled my dirty, blue knit hat over my ears, tucking a few stray, greasy, blonde curls under the knotted yarn. I coughed, probably coming down with pneumonia or some shit.  
I jammed my stiff, bare hand into the pocket of my stained jeans, I pulled out the bag of little white pills, popping 2 in my mouth and swallowing them dry. I laid back, waiting for the pain to go away.  
Two hours and another tablet of morphine later, it did. My breathing was shallow, and shaky, but I was warm and happy, fuck that, I was delusional, I was a hobo under a bridge, staring at the gang graffiti, but the warm and happy was nice.  
I moved so that I was on my side, huddled in a little ball on my back pack. Part of me wanted the temperature to drop thirty degrees so I could just freeze to death in my fucking sleep. I closed my eyes ands thought back to my childhood, growing up in Texas, I wished that I was still there, if I were there I would probably still be a goddamn hobo, but at least I'd be a warm hobo. I closed my eyes, the cold came back as my vision turned black. I shook on the ground, battling the chills that wracked my body.

"Wake up, son." My father's voice called.

"Wake up." He called again.

I opened my eyes, expecting to see my dad, I was surprised to see a police officer standing over me.

"Sorry, officer." I mumbled, standing up with my back pack.

"I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here."

"Okay, sorry." I mumbled.

"Have a good day, son."

I nodded and walked off in the general direction of the truck stop where I would spend my day. It was easily three miles to go to the rest area, so I would be walking for a good couple of hours, in the cold.  
I kept walking, I was humming to myself, I recognized the tune as an old David Bowie song. I started singing the song as I walked down the side of the highway, my jacket flapping in the gust of wind that passing cars caused,  
"Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress, rebel rebel, your face is a mess,  
Rebel rebel, how could they know? Hot tramp, I love you so!"  
I sang to myself, not able to remember any of the words besides the chorus. I moved on to a new tune, embracing my love of nu-metal,

"It's easier to run, replacing this pain with something numb, it's so much easier to go, than face all this pain here all alone, something has been taken, from deep inside of me, a secret, I've kept locked away, no one can ever see, wounds so deep, they never show, they never go away, like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played!"

I sang out the lyrics of my favorite Linkin Park song, realizing how true to my own life it was. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and kicked an empty Pepsi bottle through the grass as snow began to fall. I heard footsteps behind me.

"Hey, man." A male voice called.

"Hi." I called back.

He sped up, I felt warm, thick fingers wrap around the back of my neck.

"What do you got?" he asked.

"Get off me, fucker!" I shouted, trying to cause a scene.

"What do you got?" He replied, his long, fat fingers wrapping around my neck. I had two options in this equation, 1, shriek like a sissy girl, or 2, fight. I would fight. I pried him off of my neck and turned in his grasp, and then I broke the male code and kicked him in the balls. He doubled over in pain, I maneuvered myself to his back and essentially bashed in his head with my fist. The fat fucker went limp beneath me, probably had a heart attack, though I still heard his raspy, wheezing breaths, so I wouldn't have to carry the baggage of knowing that I killed someone around with me.

I ran off, as fast as my stiff legs would carry me, I was laughing maniacally, "Sucks to be you, fucker!"

I made it to the truck stop soon after my encounter with the fat fucker.

***AN2***

**Lemons soon!! Next chapter. Okay, is hobo Jasper not one of the SCHMEXIEST things you've done, erm, read, today? I dig hobo Jazz!  


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	2. Chapter 2

***AN***

**So, if anyone is still reading thank you! I'm totally sucktacular for not updating sooner. This is the next chapter. Got some lemon-y action for y'all! Enjoy, sorry that JPOV is so short...**

Jasper POV

It was dark out and extremely cold, the time was about nine thirty, I had spent the day inside the truck stop, my favorite waitress Bertha gave me free coffee and pie. I was supposed to meet my dealer at ten, so I walked towards the "not so nice" part of town and waited at the street corner. He soon pulled up in his car, the 1979 gold Cadillac Coup DeVille, you could see it from a mile away, with red neon lights underneath, matching fuzzy dice in the mirror, and bobble head Jesus on the dashboard. His small car was raised off the ground at least 3 feet. He stepped out and walked out to me.

"Got the stuff?" I asked.

"Got the cash?" He asked, I nodded, handing him a wad of 1's and 5's. He nodded, and produced a bag of pills.

"You need to get laid, I think I got a girl for you."

"I think I'm okay, James."

"No, I'm serious. Meet her here tonight. Alice is her name."

"But-" I called after him, he went back to his car and drove off.

Alice POV

I pulled my leather skirt up my slim legs and zipped it when it reached my hips. I laced a boustiae tightly to my boyish curves. I slipped on a pair of heels, and wrapped myself in a leather coat before heading out the door for another miserable night. I walked down the metal steps, only to be greeted by James, who was leaning against his gold Cadillac.

"I have a client for you, Alice." He murmured, clutching my chin.

"Thank you." I sighed, getting into the back of his car, where two of my other 'coworkers' were sitting. He drove to an alley, oh joy, blow jobs is an alley, at night.

"Here we are, Alice, you know how to get yourself home." I nodded, opening the door and sliding out of the pimp mobile.

"Hi?" I called down the alley, as James drove off.

"Are you Alice?" A man in dirty clothes and a bag clinging to his shoulder asked.

"Yup, that's me." I replied, something about this dirty, somewhat smelly, blonde man drew me in like a moth to a flame.

He licked his lips, causing me to bite back a moan, "I'm jasper." He told me.

"Okay, so what can I do for you?"

"James, my dealer, suggested that I needed to get laid. Before I could decline, he told me to meet you here."

"Oh, if you don't want my services, I can leave. I need to make money."

"I have 30 dollars to my name." He whispered sadly.  
Then and there, I knew in my heart that we were supposed to be together.

"Follow me." I said grabbing his hand.

Acting on impulse, I began to walk to my grungy apartment with Jasper.

"Where are we going?" he asked, looking down into my eyes, I looked back into his deep, crystal blue eyes, which made my arousal grow.

"My apartment. I have to work, and you need to bathe and eat.. When I come back we will find a way for you to spend your 30 dollars."

"You don't have to do this for me." He said. I noticed that he had a slight southern accent.

"I'm well aware of that, but there are some things that I want to do to you." I said firmly.

Jasper moaned quietly, the tension between us increased. I slowed down and leaned into his shoulder, which if not for my heels, I wouldn't have been able to reach. He smiled down at me.

"This is it." I told him, guiding us towards the brick building.

We walked up the stairs to my floor. I got out my key.

"Thank you." Jasper whispered, I nodded.

"Back there is the bathroom, the handles in the shower fall off, so be careful. You're welcome to whatever you find in the cupboards. I'll be back around 2."

"Thanks again, bye."

I smiled, nodded, and walked out, locking the door behind me. I walked back down the stairs, wanting nothing more than to turn around and walk back to the waiting man in my apartment, and essentially fuck him senseless.

I turned down one of the roads and strutted, waiting for someone to slow down and pick me up.

"Hey baby." A man in a red Toyota said, pulling over.

"Hey, sexy," I leaned into his car, jutting out my chest.

"Hop on in."

I got into his car, he drove to a motel that was a block away and got a room for an hour.

"What can I do for you?"

"Blow job."

I nodded, he opened the door to the motel room, he went over to the foot of the bed, I followed. Once he sat down, he pulled out a 20 and shoved it down my top. He removed his pants and boxers, I kneeled before him. I took a deep breath, hating my life even more, he moaned as I began my ministrations. All I could think of was Jasper, waiting for me. And Jasper in the shower, and Jasper eating cereal. I was pulled back into reality as my client. gripped at my hair, I whimpered, he gripped it harder, I winced, he pulled again, somehow harder. I hated him in that moment, I didn't know him and yet I hated him, tears burned my eyes as he gripped the hair near my temples, I couldn't think of anything else but to bite, so I did. Hard. I stood up, and ran as fast as I could out of the room.

"You fucking whore!" He called after me.

So I ran faster.

"Bitch!" He screamed.

I ran outside, in the direction of my house, anxious to be in the arms of Jasper. I opened the door hoping that he was still there with all of my belongings. I opened the door to find Jasper sitting on the floor about 7 feet back from the door, he was hunched over something.

"Hi. What are you doing?"

"Reading one of your books... for, for educational purposes."

"Uhuh, and what book would that be?"

"Kisses in the moonlight." He replied, blushing.

"Oh, I see, will you show me what you learned?" I asked, as seductively as possible.

"After you brush your teeth."

"Okay," He looked back down at his book and turned the page.

I walked into the bathroom, and grabbed my purple toothbrush, I applied a thick layer of toothpaste, I started brushing my teeth, and ridding myself of the last thing that was in my mouth.

"Hurry!" Jasper yelled.

I spat, rinsed my mouth, and ran back out to him. He was sitting on the bed, in boxers and an undershirt. I closed the space between us he assaulted my lips with his own, I moaned into his mouth as he closed all the space between us.

"Take it off!" I screamed, not sure of what I wanted him to remove, but I knew it would get me closer to what I wanted. He pulled off my top, I moaned as my breasts hit the cool air.

"How was your shower?" I asked, pulling off his skin tight t-shirt.

"It would have been better if you were there." He said.

"Well, I'm here now." I told him.

"Good."

He removed my skirt, I returned the favor and pulled his boxers down.

"Mm," I moaned as I saw him, in all his glory.

"Now, baby." He almost whimpered.

"Oh, my, Jasper!" I screamed, he pulled us onto the bed, he began to thrust, he pulled out almost completely and slammed into me, I groaned with pleasure.

"Fuck!" he yelled.

"More! More! More!" I screamed, I was so close.

"I need you, Alice!" He gasped.

I moaned as he took me over the edge, he collapsed on me. My muscles spasmed, we were both panting, he kissed me, his kisses trailed down my neck to my breasts, down to my stomach. He kissed my hips, his tongue moved to my thighs and then to my core, he licked and sucked at my sensitive flesh. I moaned and gripped the sheets as I came again.

"I love you." I panted.

"I love you too."

I fell asleep in his arms, I was still somewhat aware as he covered me up with the blankets. I snuggled into him, he ran his fingers through my hair.

"Jasper," I attempted to be firm, "tomorrow when I wake up, I want you to be here."

"Don't worry, darlin', I will."

**REVIEW! Please? Reviews are better than heroin!**


	3. AN I'm Sorry

**Hey guys, I'm really sorry to tell you that I have been plagued by a severe case of writer's block, due to a bout of depression, anxiety, and insomnia, thus I have not been writing, this along with a lot of other shit has been going on for me. I totally except it if you come to my house and beat down my door with pitchforks and torches. I'm so sorry to all of you, and I'm trying to write, but at this point I really need to clean my act up, and get my shit together. **

**I hope to continue writing my Twi-fics soon, but right now I'm working on my music for a band that myself and Alligatorpie are attempting to get off the ground. I am in therapy, working to resolve my issues, and I've been taking a medication for anxiety which has been sort of controlling me. I can't get past a place of angst in my personal life and it's bleeding into my stories, which can be a huge bonus sometimes, but the plots that I'm currently working on are taking turns for the happy. I'm not quite ready to put my fics up for adoption but if the time should come, I promise to let you know immediately.**

**I apologize to anyone for any inconvenience that my absence may cause. For right now I need the support of my loving fans, trust me when I say that when I overcome this hurdle I will be a stronger person and a better author. Any of you that have suffered or been around Depression understand that it truly does come to rule you. The tacky "Depression hurts" commercials are actually quite acurate. It's a strtuggle that I, as an individual, with the help of my therapist and loved one will overcome to be a more defined individual. Until that point know that I love and respect each of you with my whole being, I hope that through my writing I have earned that respect from you as well, so please stay with me through this valley until I am able to climb out of my hidey-hole and into the light of this loving, open community that we are all as writers/readers a part of.**

**To end my rant, I love you all, you are beautiful, please keep reading, even if I am not the person whose works you read. Thank you for being such great fans.**

**All of my love,  
~Alice**


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